Underground prologue
by Forgotten Muse
Summary: ARCHIVED


A/N

Well, this came to me after watchingcertain filmsand listening to too much angry rock music. It's also somewhat inspired by SatAM, a few old fanfics of mine and a STC 'what-if' that's been in my mind for a very long time.

This is AU- actually, another Fleetway continuation but set so far in the future it doesn't matter all that much, and will morph into my twisted _alternative_ version of Sonic Underground in time anyway. (shall jump on Dr. Sipp's bandwagon and give the universe some initials to distinguish it from my other stuff in the summary, so let's call it TAU- or The Alternative Underground.)

Basically this was conceived as a side-project to keep me amused whenever I get blocked on other things, hence the shortness of this first part plus the fact that it's derivative as anything and has probably been done a hundred times before. So I give no guarantee when or if it will be updated. Chapter length is probably going to fluctuate as well seeing as I'll be working on it on a 'when I get the chance' basis.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Further chapters- and this is another warning- will contain lyrics, general cliché-ed-ness, and characters warped beyond all recognition by yours truly. Then again, most of my fics do that anyway :p

Oh, and there won't be any slash. Sorry.

All the characters are © to their respective owners. (Sega/Egmont Fleetway/ Whoever) Don't sue me. Student. Skint.

* * *

Underground- prologue

By T. Evans

Eventually there came a time when Mobius no longer remembered what life had been like before Dr. Robotnik.

How many decades or generations had passed had blurred with the rest of the history that was no longer taught. The metal empire maintained that it had been in existence forever. It simply _was._

But not everything could be suppressed. There were stories that had been passed down through word of mouth- whispers of a time when 'freedom' meant more than merely being enslaved rather than imprisoned or worse. The details were long gone, but the notion remained that there had been a force of good once. A hero, or possibly a group of them, who had opposed Robotnik- because as the whispers claimed, 'Robotnik' had not always been just a name for whatever shadowy force controlled the robots that in turn controlled the people. Whether that force was an organisation or a supercomputer or the badniks themselves, no one could say for certain. The point was that Robotnik had once been a _person_. A tangible entity who could be fought against.

And was… until something happened.

The Time of Chaos, people would say in hushed, superstitious tones.

What that meant, the stories could never quite agree. It had been something terrible- something cataclysmic. But they did agree that Mobius' greatest city at the time had been consumed in flame, and from the debris Robotnik had risen.

And from then on there had been no hero to stop him.

But the legend persisted, and when there were no machines around to hear they would tell tales of an island that flew, gems with phenomenal powers, and a flash of blue that left destroyed robots in its wake.

The general consensus was that the stories were just that- little myths for the children at bedtime, there to make the rusted and oil-streaked world outside their windows seem a little more bearable.

However, many of Mobius' people had no time for stories. They were far too busy staying alive.

Tonight that was proving especially difficult for one young hedgehog.

"Halt, citizen!"

When the teenager heard the flat mechanical voice of the badnik trooper ordering him to stop, and turned to see a whole squad of the armoured monsters marching towards him, in his panic he had dropped his stolen prize and run for his life.

That was a mistake, he realised immediately. He'd found a badnik that had malfunctioned and shut down in the middle of the street, and the gun he had attempted to take from it might have made his life easier. The hedgehog was not a 'gun' type, had never even fired one… but any help was better than no help, although he had been thinking more along the lines of selling the thing at the time. He could have got enough money for a few meals out of that.

But he hadn't counted on the disabled robot having friends nearby.

It was too late to dwell on what he could have done differently, though.

Manic didn't look back. The sounds of the troopers' insistent demands for him to stop and their metal boots clanging against the pavement told him they weren't going to give up easily- badniks were nothing if not determined. He had attempted to deface Robotnik Empire property, which he knew instantly made him a wanted criminal. In fact, just belonging to his particular species was enough to get him into trouble.

Being a hedgehog was not a crime in itself. But on the other hand it was also said that you were more likely to be struck by lightning than to meet one who had survived into old age. That was why he kept his telltale brown quills cut as short as possible, only a few inches longer than the rest of his fur- it made him less noticeable from a distance.

Not that a bad haircut could fool a badnik's sensors, but it was better than nothing. And it sometimes saved him being run out of whatever zone he found himself in by other wary Mobians.

But this was the dead heart of the Old Metropolis zone and there were hardly any people left here, and just as few badniks; that was why he had stayed so long after wandering through a gap in the walls and fences that cut the sector off from everywhere else. It had been sheer bad luck that he had run into a patrol.

The only good thing was that he knew they wouldn't shoot him unless he actively resisted or became more trouble than he was worth. He'd heard the rumours of how Robotnik powered some of the worker badniks and living computer networks.

An 'organic battery' was the euphemism.

And those machines always needed more fuel.

He wasn't sure if he believed it. But it would explain why troopers would always try to catch a prisoner alive _before_ resorting to using those blasters of theirs. And why those prisoners were never seen again.

Manic shuddered inwardly.

_I think I'd rather be shot than that…_

He gritted his teeth and tried to pick up the pace.

* * *

"So you're on the move again," a voice murmured quietly to itself. "It has been a while…"

Eyes scanned the darkened room for an occupant who was no longer there. This was not unexpected. Even as he had negotiated the broken staircase to the top floor of the derelict tower block, his acute senses were already telling him that the room- probably an office once upon a time- would be empty.

But he had had to check anyway. Just in case there was some clue as to where he had gone.

The figure did not allow panic to enter his thoughts. He noted that the room was unchanged from when he had seen it last, apart from one missing inhabitant and the fact that the rough cloth nailed across what had been a window was ripped away. So he had most likely exited through there… but apart from that there was no other damage to the already gutted space. That was a good sign.

_He probably just became restless, then._

Perhaps he was simply bored with his current hiding place, and looking for somewhere new…it had always been difficult for him to stay in one place for too long. That was one thing that had never changed.

The figure moved to the rough outline of the window. It was a little lighter outside and his profile was silhouetted in the opening, his left eye looking into the distance and right falling closed out of habit.

The shattered buildings of the old city stretched out in every direction, dark and lifeless. Like tombstones.

He could remember when lights had burned in all of those buildings. No lights now. He wasn't sure if he liked it better that way; the silence and darkness suited him, but he knew what had happened to all those people.

This _was_ a graveyard… a massive graveyard. And he had had enough death for one lifetime.

He also knew that it was far too easy to become lost in memories. There were more urgent things at hand.

_Seems I have to track you down again._ His fingers brushed lightly over his right eyelid. _Preferably before you do something reckless._

In a smooth movement he was perched on the window ledge, where he hung poised for a second. Then, apparently not caring that he was several storeys above the ground, he was gone into the night as if he had never been there at all.

* * *

The young thief was soon panting from exertion and his heart hammered wildly in his chest as he ran. Manic was no athlete and hadn't had a decent meal in days; he had no reserves left, and knew he would have to stop.

He skidded around another corner in the ruined city, one hand pressed against his side where a stitch was protesting painfully. He had managed to put a little distance between himself and the lumbering troopers- it would be a few seconds before they rounded the corner and had a clear view of him again. He took his chance and swerved into the first narrow alleyway he saw.

It wasn't a brilliant plan. But it was the best he could come up with. Troopers were not noted for being particularly intelligent, so maybe that would work in his favour…

He stumbled to a halt and pressed his back against the wall as he fought to slow and quieten his ragged breathing. Cold seeped from the concrete and through his close-cropped spines, helping to cool his overheated figure.

But the noisy approach of the badniks reminded him not to stand still for too long. It sounded like they had already rounded the corner.

His dark brown eyes scanned his surroundings. Although it was close to midnight and electricity to the area had been cut off decades ago there was still just enough light to see by. Even with the ever-present clouds of smog hiding the moons it was never truly dark in the city, simply because of light pollution reflecting off the clouds from the areas that still had power.

He saw the empty shells of broken, burnt-out tower blocks jabbing into the sky on either side of him. Years-old debris and rubbish of all kinds was strewn across the ground. Like everywhere else the place smelled of fumes, but also of decaying things and the dust that clogged the air. Even if it was abandoned, there was something about alleys that always attracted bad smells.

"Manic dude… you are one stupid hedgehog." He hissed to himself, panicking.

It was a dead end, of course.

He had let fear take over and ignored one of his own most important rules: never get cornered. Always find another way out first.

The troopers would be passing the entrance to the alley in a moment. And if they spotted him he would have nowhere to go.

Maybe the deep shadows would be enough to conceal him.

Yeah, right…

He tried to melt into the wall anyway.

The crimson-armoured robots began to file past the opening. Manic held his breath, trying to remain motionless, but his eyes instinctively darted around in search of another exit.

Five troopers had gone past now. Without seeing him.

His jaws clenched to stop them chattering though sheer terror… of all the close ones he'd had over the last couple of months, this was the closest yet.

The sounds coming to his ears told him that this trooper was the last one.

They still hadn't seen him. But the final robot was hesitating. Probably waiting for its computer brain to tell it whether the alley was worth investigating or not… he could hear the servos whirring as its skull-like head turned from side to side.

_Go on, dude… be a good little rustbucket and go polish yourself… there's no one here, definitely no hedgehogs…_

The trooper began to move away.

_That's right._ Manic slowly let out the breath he had been holding. _Go bug somebody else. Somebody very far away._

Then disaster struck. Sometimes Manic would say laughingly that the world itself was conspiring to make things difficult for him… at that moment he would not have been joking.

The thick dust in the air caught in his throat as he gave a relieved sigh. Unable to stop himself, he coughed.

Loudly.

The noise on the street outside told him all he needed to know. The troopers could move surprisingly quickly when they wanted to, and within seconds they were ringing the entrance to the alley, blasters levelled at his position as they cut off his only escape route.

"You were seen tampering with a badnik, hedgehog." A trooper stepped forward. The robot's red eyes pulsed within the shadows below the rim of its helmet. Nothing distinguished it from the others: they were all identical, imposing machines built to resemble heavily armoured soldiers- the design was probably meant to intimidate and since they were also more than twice Manic's height, that design was very effective at the task.

The small figure took an involuntary, frightened step back.

"N…no way, man. Wasn't me. You got the wrong hedgehog," he babbled.

"You have two choices," the badnik continued, unimpressed. "Your crime demands punishment. Therefore you will either come with us quietly to be dealt with as master Robotnik sees fit. Or if you choose to resist, punishment will be delivered here."

The trooper raised its gun, and Manic instantly regretted his earlier thoughts. He didn't want to be on the receiving end of that thing after all.

"I'll, uh… take door number one…" he muttered, shivering.

Then out of nowhere came a sharp crack, like thunder. An abrupt change in air pressure. Something flickered in his peripheral vision.

He jerked, closing his eyes and grimacing as he waited for the pain to hit.

But badnik blasters didn't go _bang_, they whined.

Then he did hear blasters, however they weren't directed at him. There were the sounds of things hitting metal, and that metal shrieking as it buckled under immense pressure.

And a snarl that wasn't produced by any robot.

"What's… goin' on?"

He looked out, carefully, then flattened himself against the wall again in shock.

There was a flurry of movement that was literally taking the badniks apart. Whatever it was was moving so quickly that he only caught the briefest flashes of feet that lashed out to cave in trooper heads and torsos, hands that punched then clawed and ripped in an enraged frenzy. The thing had fur.

Manic stared. No living thing could move with that kind of demonic speed. And no robot was so… vicious in it its attacks.

It let out a chilling cry that was part laugh and part scream, a mix of searing fury and triumph as it neatly kicked off the head of another trooper.

The _last_ trooper.

The teenage hedgehog blinked, unaware that his mouth was hanging open, as he waited to wake up from what must be a dream. It couldn't be real life, after all in real life things didn't move too fast to see and nobody went around smashing up badniks for the pleasure of it. If they even could… the troopers had been reduced to scrap in seconds, and he could see from the debris just how thick their armour plating had been.

But… something about this was- familiar. He had never seen anything like it, but a bell was ringing in his mind. What was it…?

The creature had landed lightly and stood with its back to him, admiring its handiwork.

If it was possible, Manic was even more confused.

It was not the strange monster he had assumed at first. It- he- was small, not that much taller than Manic himself, and much more lightly built. A ring of tarnished gold encircled one wrist, but apart from that and a pair of battered running shoes he was unclothed.

He was a Mobian. Dark-furred, with pointed ears, a slender tail, and quills- they were long and unkempt and seemed to be growing abnormally, as if fused together into several clumps. But quills nonetheless.

_Hedgehog…? It's another hedgehog? Can this get any more freaky…_

Manic's next thought was that whoever this hedgehog was, he was going to be in serious trouble for destroying those troopers.

Then he realised the guy had probably also saved his life.

Relieved and smiling, he stepped out into plain view.

"Hey, thanks… I thought those 'niks were gonna zap me or something… you're gonna have to show me how you did that…"

The stranger didn't move, apart from a slow clenching and unclenching of his fists and an ear that swivelled in his direction.

Manic cleared his throat and tried again. "Um… so, where you from, dude? I haven't seen another hedgehog in months. I'm Manic. And before you ask… don't."

The dark-coloured hedgehog chuckled softly.

"_Manic,_ huh." He began to turn, just as there was a small shower of sparks from one of the dead badniks. The brief flickering light revealed his grin and highlighted the colour of fur and spines that had been black in the darkness.

_Blue…_

Manic gasped as his mind made a connection between _blue_ and that incredible speed. A story he had been told as a child.

You weren't supposed to talk about it. The history books denied it. But every young hedgehog wanted to be him… the hero from before Chaos. The blue hedgehog who could outrun any machine.

Manic remembered asking why. Why he had failed, in the end. Each person he asked had told a different story.

He had betrayed Mobius and joined forces with Robotnik. He had simply gone insane. He had died. He had not died, and would one day return.

Manic had always liked that last one.

It couldn't be.

Could it?

"Whoa…you look like- you're not _him_, are you…? The one I was…named after..." He paused, before amending, "Well, sort of."

But that was just- stupid. If he had ever existed at all, he would be dead by now. Long gone. Because only Robotnik was forever.

And that hero was supposed to have had eyes like emeralds…not like the ones that opened and gazed steadily at him now, that he didn't need light to see the colour of because they glowed in the darkness on their own.

The blue hedgehog smiled dangerously.

"Well, sort of."

And then Manic was scrambling backwards, more terrified than before.

_What… what is he…_

The hedgehog… the creature was stepping over the debris and walking smoothly towards him. The smile on his face was faintly threatening and only grew more so as the other hedgehog's fear became more obvious.

Manic remembered the dead end and stumbled on something, perhaps his own feet. He found himself on the ground, staring up at the apparition.

He could see all the little details now despite the poor light. The figure was lean and powerful but just on the wrong side of thin. The fur and quills scruffy as if their owner had let them grow out without expending any effort in caring for them. A few strands of hair straggled down in front of those eyes.

Manic knew the eyes would haunt him if he survived this. They were molten red. Pupils too small in the dim light. Filled with anger and pain and resentment.

He stopped a pace away, looking darkly amused despite the eyes. They flicked at the pile of what had been deadly robots but was now just so much scrap. Then they fixed on Manic again, whose own eyes were wide and unblinking as he recalled what people said about why this part of town was abandoned and walled off. The rumours that there was something there that Robotnik couldn't tame. That it was haunted. He had never believed a word of it. He had laughed.

The red-eyed creature saw that Manic was glancing at the torn-up badniks too, and showed his canines in another distinctly evil grin that suggested he knew exactly what was going through the brown hedgehog's head.

"So, you want me to show you how I did that..."

* * *

(01/05/2005)

to be continued

* * *

Manic: I'm brown, why am I brown? Why aren't I Sonic's brother?

_Because._

Manic: Why is Sonic still alive! …And who was that guy?

_Because!_

Manic: 'because' is not an answer. .

Sonic: What the hell did you do to ME? I'm EVIL! Like a…psycho vampire or something… 

_You're not a vampire, Sonic._

Sonic: Zombie? 

_grins no._

Sonic: You've been watching Samurai Deeper Kyo again?

_True, but no._

Sonic: Oh… then it's _that_ again. When you said 'red'… you meant 'swirly' didn't you…

_Nope. (who, me?)_

Sonic: I hate you. --

* * *

So, there you go. I think I've just gone up another notch on the 'evil' scale. :p

Continue yes/no?

(Oh and… um… not to sound like the REAd&REVIEWPLZ!11! crowd, but I really would appreciate one or two reviews… doesn't have to be constructive criticism, I KNOW this is bad. Just, 'Hello, I read the fic' will do :p )


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